𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 8

The house had cleared out by nightfall.

Family cars crunched over the gravel drive as guests exchanged farewells, and you felt a strange relief as their voices faded, leaving only the creaks and sighs of the house settling around you.

After all the noise and warmth of the evening, the old house felt colder, almost empty, though you knew better.

Only your parents were staying behind, insisting on seeing things through for the night in their protective, quiet way.

After the past few weeks of strange occurrences, they had a reason for their worry. And although you didn't say so, you were grateful to have them here—no matter how much your relationship with the house had shifted recently.

You gave your parents a parting nod before heading upstairs to start preparing the guest room for them.

As you crossed the hallway, you could feel Taehyung's presence beside you. It was subtle—a soft touch of lavender and a cold brush of air against your arm.

You rolled your eyes, even though part of you felt a touch of excitement, almost expecting his voice, his teasing to fill the space around you.

The guest room's door creaked open slowly, as if to announce your arrival.

You crossed the room to draw the curtains, but you sensed Taehyung before you saw him. He was lingering by the doorway, leaning against the frame as if he had always belonged there.

"Not scared of a little housekeeping, are you?" he drawled, his voice low and filled with a playful edge.

You turned, eyebrow raised. "It's not for me," you murmured, tossing a blanket over the bed and smoothing out the edges. "My parents are staying tonight."

He smirked, an amused gleam in his eye. "Ah, so I have the pleasure of meeting the family, then?" He took a step closer, making it clear that even though he wasn't quite human, he enjoyed toying with the limits of space between you.

"Maybe if they knew you were here, they wouldn't be staying," you shot back, though your voice betrayed a hint of laughter.

Taehyung looked around, his expression mock-serious. "Well, we'd better make it comfortable for them, hmm?" His fingers ghosted over the blankets, the faintest breeze following as he "helped" smooth them down.

You huffed, unable to keep from laughing at the absurdity. "And here I thought you'd just keep to the shadows. Aren't ghosts supposed to, I don't know, haunt things?"

He leaned in, just close enough that you could feel the chill of his presence. "Maybe I'd rather haunt you." His voice was soft, a barely-there whisper that lingered even after he stepped back.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes, and tried to return to work, though he didn't make it easy.

Every time you reached for something—a pillow, a towel—Taehyung would "help," guiding it just out of reach, his laughter filling the room.

His voice teased from everywhere and nowhere at once, punctuated with small chuckles as he watched you fumble.

Exasperated but amused, you finally stood still, arms crossed, and looked at him. "You know, for someone who's been here quite a while, you seem awfully... cheerful."

His smile faltered, just a touch, his gaze shifting somewhere past you as if remembering something just out of reach. But then the lightness returned, his eyes locking back onto yours. "Maybe that's why I'm here," he said softly. "Maybe I'm waiting for the right person to notice."

You stilled, a strange shiver running through you, and for the first time in this banter, the humor fell away. His words struck something deep, a quiet truth you hadn't expected.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice softer than before.

But he only shook his head, giving you a mysterious smile. "Don't look so serious," he murmured. "If you keep frowning like that, you'll make me think I've overstayed my welcome."

He let out a low chuckle, yet you could sense a thread of sorrow woven into it.

Somehow, he was always present yet always distant, as if he was tied to the world yet unable to fully engage with it. And as much as he unsettled you, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was... lonely.

As you both finished preparing the guest room in relative silence, you felt something shift in the air. You turned to face him, intending to speak, but he'd already disappeared, leaving behind a soft scent of lavender and an unspoken weight in the room.

Later that night, after your parents had gone to bed, you lingered in the quiet of the house. You found yourself in the sitting room, the only light coming from a single flickering candle. The room was still, but you sensed him nearby, an energy pressing in on all sides.

"Taehyung?" you called softly, as if speaking his name might draw him out of the shadows.

A shape materialized in the dim light, his figure solidifying as he stepped forward, his gaze locked on you with a kind of quiet intensity that sent a chill through you.

You hadn't expected to see him like this—so close, his presence so tangible. His gaze lingered on you, searching, as though waiting for you to say something you didn't quite understand yet.

After a long, charged moment, you found your voice. "What happened to you, Taehyung? Why... why are you here?"

His expression shifted, his face turning solemn as he took a step closer. "I've asked myself that a thousand times," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "But the truth is... I don't know."

You felt a pang of sadness in his words, a longing that had no clear source. "How did you... die?" you asked softly, almost afraid to break the stillness between you.

Taehyung's eyes darkened, his expression hardening as his gaze drifted past you, toward some unseen memory. He seemed to struggle with the question, as if the answer was tangled in something he couldn't quite grasp.

"I was here one day... and then I wasn't," he said slowly, each word seeming to cost him something. "I remember the house, the way it felt... but the end? It's like an unfinished song, playing over and over with no resolution."

His voice grew quieter, more distant, and you could feel the weight of something painful pressing against him.

"Do you remember anything else?" you pressed, watching his expression for any hint of the truth he was searching for.

He shook his head slowly, his gaze softening as it fell back to you. "Only fragments. Fleeting moments... like this." His voice held a haunting sadness, an ache that pulled at something deep within you.

You reached out instinctively, and though your hand passed through him, you could almost feel his cold presence, as if he were both here and elsewhere.

"Maybe I can help you remember," you said quietly, watching him with a new resolve. "Maybe... if I stay, if I try, I can help you find out what happened."

For a long moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable. But then, he smiled faintly, a glimmer of something like hope flickering in his eyes. "Maybe you can," he whispered. "Maybe you're the one I've been waiting for."

As the candle flickered out, leaving you alone in the darkened room, you could still feel him there, his presence like a whisper lingering in the silence.

And in that darkness, you finally dared to ask the question that had been haunting you since the beginning.

"Taehyung," you murmured into the silence, "who killed you?"

( 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦，𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨，𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳<3

𝘱．𝘴
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 9 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 ，𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘢 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘯）